Would You Like an Apple Pie With That?
by ShaperOfThings
Summary: In her quest to learn about the human world, Illyria attempts to master the art of ordering food from a fastfood restaurant. Standalone. Implied violence and a coarse swear word or two.


Disclaimer: All Angel characters do not, unfortunately, belong to me. Joss Whedon does. One of these days... shakes his fist

Beta-ed by: LittleMarySunshine, Karla, and Kate. Thanks a lot! I really appreciate your putting up with my obsessive behaviour and multiple emails. Heh.

Illyria had never encountered anything like this before. Her guide had sent her on this quest for the purpose of helping her blend into the human culture. She stood before the mystifying sign in the nearly empty and dimly-lit parking lot. She scanned the script, recognizing the symbols as English.

She closely analyzed the letters. Their colour was a cheerful shade of yellow, one of the restaurant's attempts to invoke an overall pleasant and content atmosphere. "Small? Medium? Large? Extra-Large?" she read out loud to herself. Her head cocked to the right, her blue-streaked brown hair falling into her eyes. She growled.

The speaker box on the burger-shaped menu crackled to life. "Hello, and welcome to Burger Palace. My name is Andy and may I take your order?"

"Voice box! You have a lot of choices here. In my day, nobody dared too ask many questions or give many choices for they feared a slow and painful death. Everything was simple and rightfully so. Everybody's decisions were made by the ruler. His word was absolute law. It does not surprise me to see the pathetic humans stumbling and flailing in the darkness like blind mice because of their indecision."

"Yeah, flailing around in the dark, whatever," a bored voice floated out, "So, what will it be then?"

Illyria's icy-blue eyes narrowed. The tone of the menu's voice displeased her greatly. "Your impetuosity amaze me. Had I been the ruler of this world, you would have been groveling at my feet, begging for mercy like a wounded animal at mercy of its slayer. How unfortunate for you, I don't grant mercy to infidels."

"Huh? Look, miss, just get on with it. I don't have all night. Do you want to order or not?"

"How dare you!" she snapped as she bent over closer to the speaker box. "Insects like you would have had their tongues cut out and their mouths sewn shut!"

"What the hell are you on?" the voice rising with annoyance, "If you don't have anything you'd like order, please leave and let the next customer order, ma'am."

She drew herself to full height and snorted derisively. "I do not bend to your commands," she bit off at each word, her head held high. She sneered, walking back and forth in front of the menu.

Something rang loudly and it caught Illyria off her guard. She snarled and swatted at the air around her head, as though a gnat was pestering her. Then she suddenly stopped and looked down at her skintight leather catsuit. She remembered the cell phone Wesley had given her for emergencies such as these. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the cell phone.

In his office at Wolfram & Hart, Wesley was pacing back and forth as he held his cell phone to ear, waiting for Illyria to answer. Suddenly, he stopped beside his desk as he heard her familiar voice. By her tone, he knew she was upset. He sighed slightly and put his other hand on his desk to support himself. He took a moment to prepare himself for the upcoming conversation he knew would be anything but simple. "Hello? This is Wesley. How are you doing so far? Do you require," Wesley paused and carefully chose his words—he did not want to offend her--before going on, "Assistance?"

"Wesley, this strange talking object is making a mockery of me. I will not tolerate such insubordination! I shall teach it a lesson."

Picturing the familiar body language Illyria tended to have when upset, Wesley cleared his throat on the phone and attempted to calm the angered former ruler. "Illyria, please, you mustn't. Remember, not everyone knows of your superiority. If you are to walk in the world of humans, two of the most important qualities you should exercise are patience and restraint."

He heard her growling slightly before consenting, "Very well. You are my guide and I will pay heed to your words."

"Good, I'm glad to hear that. Now, do you remember what you were supposed to order?" Wesley replied back, obviously pleased. He rubbed his neck with his other hand, feeling very relieved.

"Yes. I will now attempt to tell the speaking repulsion my wishes and initiate a trade of paper currency for food."

Still holding the phone in her hand, Illyria returned her attention to the menu. "Listen closely for I am about to command you."

The annoying voice huffed and mumbled a "whatever." Remembering Wesley's words, Illyria chose to ignore it.

"I...desire a double cheeseburger with everything on it, chicken sandwich with no mayonnaise, two spinach," Illyria paused and struggled to pronounce the next word, "gyros, a plain hamburger, five medium fries, and five medium drinks consisting of two Pepsi, Mountain Dew, Diet Pepsi, and iced tea."

Cocking her head, she spoke into the phone. "Was that satisfactory, Wesley?"

Wesley began to say something, but he was interrupted by the annoyingly nasal voice.

"So, that'd be a cheeseburger, chicken sandwich with no mayo, two spinach gyros whatever that is, a hamburger with everything, five medium fries, and five medium Pepsi and Mountain Dew?" the voice yawningly asked.

"Oh, god," Wesley muttered, grimacing. He foresaw a 99.8 chance of Illyria doing something drastic.

Annoyed, Illyria repeated her order. The voice incorrectly repeated everything back. She went still and stared into the burger-shaped menu's blank eyes. "This will not do," she stated menacingly, her emotionless eyes narrowing. Her head cocked as her hand fisted and she stepped closer to the menu with the annoying voice.

Wesley could hear everything that was taking place and groaned. He tiredly pinched the bridge of his nose, sat on the edge of his desk, and began to speak into his phone as an adult would to a child. "Illyria. Please calm yourself and don't..." Sounds of metal and plastic snapping and grinding emitted through his phone. He grimaced and held the cell phone at an arm's length. He stared at it and waited for a few minutes. He stood and walked around his desk. A sigh escaped his lips as he looked out his window at the clear and starry night. He turned to the speaker phone on his desk and pressed a button. Soon as a voice answered, he spoke. "Angel, please ask everybody how would they feel about Chinese take-out tonight. Again."


End file.
